


A Dozen Beers Each

by FightMilk



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FightMilk/pseuds/FightMilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Literally just some Macdennis fluff. Nothing sexual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dozen Beers Each

Yellow light filtered through the cracks in the tightly closed blinds. Somewhere in the distance there was a car alarm going off, punctuated by the grinding of trucks making early deliveries. But in this room it was all too far away.  
They lay frozen in bed, drunk on their electricity and a dozen beers each. A trail of beer cans led from the living room to Dennis' bedroom. The more recent empties littered around the bed made the room stink of warm beer. Mac's Drakkar Noir cut through the yeasty cloud, more intoxicating than the beer could ever be.   
"Den..." Mac exhaled, twitching his hand just enough to close the painful gap between his fingers and Dennis'. His eyes almost fluttered open before he drifted into the twilight of exhaustion. Although Dennis felt the same tiredness he couldn't bear to close his eyes.   
Mac's fingertips were rough against his religiously moisturized ones. Dennis flexed his fingers, making more contact, harder contact. Their distance was exciting, a game that Dennis was used to playing. But what he wasn't used to were the feelings. It wasn't like the roller coaster love he had when he was younger. It was deeper, quieter, angrier. He felt shit. Down in his heart. And Mac's devotion made him feel safe. He could depend on it. Even if their relationship wasn't steady, Mac's devotion would be. It was almost sad. Or it would be if Dennis didn't need it so badly.  
They had touched before--like this, just...together. When their breathing synced and nothing else existed. But all of those moments were lost, usually to hard alcohol. The flashes of memory they could extract from brownouts were precious, things they ran over and over in their heads in moments of loneliness, usually followed by bouts of serious self hate and then a great deal of time behind a locked door.   
Their comfort was broken by the ringing of a cell phone. The same thirty seconds of "Tubthumping" played a few times as neither Dennis or Mac wanted to break this moment. Mac's eyes finally opened to find Dennis looking at him with a tenderness he had never seen before. They held eye contact as the phone began to ring again.  
"It's probably Charlie," Mac groaned.  
"I know, man. I'm just too drunk for this. He's gonna want to come over and bitch about Frank. I'm just going to ignore it."  
"Yeah, good idea."  
"I know."  
Mac's eyes had already closed, his warm breath filling the space between them. Dennis let out a deep sigh and relaxed his muscles, letting his hand fall further into Mac's. His fingers fell between Mac's, making every second feel like a day filled with the fear of losing that contact.   
Instead of pulling away, Mac closed his hand, too slowly and deliberately for him to be asleep. Dennis' breath caught in his throat. This would be on a video tape but he would never be able to relive the exact feeling he had now. It was sickening, overwhelming.  
And still he was forced into a smile and a comfortable, easy sleep. He knew that they would both remember it, even if they held it as a secret.


End file.
